


Gnakao- Eyes wide ablaze

by Xenagos



Series: The Vermintide [1]
Category: Skaven - Fandom, Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer Fantasy
Genre: Bretonnia, Gen, Rats aren't nice, Skaven, War, Warhammer - Freeform, campaign
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 19:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19115827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenagos/pseuds/Xenagos
Summary: The first of many bloody battles and the beginning of a war campaign that will bring a Bretonnian province to it's knees.





	1. 1. Gnakao - Eyes wide Ablaze

**Author's Note:**

> Just the start in a series of small writings, skaven have always really struck my interest as wild ratmen so i wanted to try and stretch out my writing muscles xp

A bleeding sky seared in screaming green hung callously above the town of Vassouille. It hadn't been even an hour yet the systematic feral carnage the raid left behind gave the appearance of a battle long fought, and those that weren't crushed beneath the skittering paws of the Skaven were crammed carelessly into rusted crude cages. Their cries turned silent as the ratmen turned their once picturesque village into no more than a grim promise of what would soon sweep the whole province, one only further skewered upon them by the noxious mix of crimson and emerald flame that swallowed their ruined homes and fallen folk. 

In the center of it all one skaven stood, arms raised in victory to the scene as if the misery were a perverse encore, blazing green eyes set  
wild and unstable into heavy sockets and a maw bared in a manic smile set with shard-like cruel teeth. He breathed in the smoke hungrily an exhaled as a stormvermin brought their pike down on a defender that stupidly tried to draw breath. His body was clothed in the heavy steel armor of a battle worn skaven, back covered in a row of dark spikes decorated with the skulls of the felled. He confidently hissed orders at the clan rats that scurried in fear and the stormvermin pack that awaited their next orders, and something akin to confidence in a skaven is due cause for anyone to be alarmed.

"Search the dens slaves, drag-tear them out Yes-yes! Work fast-quick or you'll be flayed you worthless slag skins!", the orders were thrown out in a snarl as the armored rat turned back towards the stormvermin with a unatural twitch. "And don't you lot become lazy-fat! Scour the farmlands! Find any hiding in the fields!" 

"Yes-yes master!". A salute chased the return before the thick black furred rats marched off. The armored rats face twitched again, expression flicking from anger to glee to paranoia like cracks of lightning as the green thrumming warpstone light of his eyes crackled. He turned around to the startled jolt of a battlefield scribe-slave whose glasses jumped askew on their thin snout. 

"W-W-Warlord Gnakao!" He gave a bow so deep his glasses threatened to fall right off his head, "The victory has-has been written! The town is taken from their man-paws. The clan slaves found-found the warstone our scouts reported, what are your orders oh wondrous one?" 

Gnakaos face was ferocious towards the scribe, the warpstone however made it's mark, it was the main reason he started his conquest here after all. "Stupid man-things, didn't even know what they stood on! Get-get the slaves digging, before I dig-gouge with your skull instead!". A rough wave of his hand sent the scribe off. 

The warlords muzzle scrunched up, warpstone. Precious sweet-tasty warpstone. His craven eyes were shrouded under his brows and he could have almost jumped in glee. Warpstone had brought him here and was his earned reward as the warlord. He alone deserved it and his clan needed as much of it as they could get if they were going to take the Bretonnian fort that dominated the provinces eastern front atop it's plateau. He drudged a pouch off his belt and poured the hypnotic green warp dust across his face, mouth agape and his eyes closed for a moment, green hue still blazing behind the black lids and took every precious grain into his lungs. In a moment his eyes snapped open with a flash, maw pulled wide in a warmongering howl that swept across the carnage, veins striating in his neck and hands twitching into gnarled claws. 

**" _AAAAAAAAAGHHH!_ KILL KILL, TAKE THE LAND, TAKE THE WARPSTONE. EAT THE SOFT MEAT AND SLAVE-SLAVE WHATS LEFT! _RRAAAAGHHH!_ "** He howled his tirade as the human village burnt around him, scorching light casting grim shadows across the warbanner that poisonously marked the mound of bodies in the center of town, calling more corpses to the mire of decay.

Yet there were still more to go. The tide doesn't halt at the first ground taken. The warlord would grow the numbers of clan Chomkrot and root through the under passages and soon he'd have the whole province of Monsillard drowning under his tide of shrieking fur.


	2. 2. Bretonnian council - The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human military leaders of the province of Monsillard gather in the weeks after the initial attacks to discuss their strategy, for one of them however the plans seem like they lead only to a dire end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written same day as the first while the energy was fresh, having fun playing around and seeing what comes of the the story planned as it is. might even try some split paths for my own enjoyment here and there xp.
> 
> Hard to find music for em but nier automata serves well enough.

**-Fort Granbere-  
-Monsillard Province-  
-Bretonnia-**

It'd only been a near fortnight since news of the skaven raid on the small village on the outskirts of the province, the nobles in the lofty Fortress Granbere dismissed it, after all skaven raids happened and a small attack meant little more than a patrol to stamp them out and escort villagers back in. Yet once the refugees arrived, those whose broken bodies and hollow eyes screamed the silent truth that it was more than a mere raid, their tune changed swiftly. By this time however the damage had been done, the so named Clan Chomkrot had taken the town and razed it, vanishing deep into the under tunnels where the ratmen thrived. A name was known, heard in a howl of wind by one villager, Warlord Gnakao.

 

A nigh unknown entity up to this point, the nobles of the castle took the threat of rising ratmen numbers rallied by an unclaimed warlord as seriously as they could though there were those that could not see the threat for what it truly was and it was this arrogance that'd be the downfall of not just outskirt hamlets and villages but their own fates. No, instead the high tower generals played their armies likes tokens across the board, the four of them crowded around the well used map in an irreverant fashion. A young man dressed in a form fitted military uniform hurriedly made his way, unused to the extremely early hours of the meetings that had been called 4 times over the past 2 weeks. As he arrived and settled to the withering glare of a duchess the strategy began to unfold around them, yet not without it's kinks.

\----------------

"Honestly young Billieumont, we've dealt with the skaven threat before and one skirmish in a defenseless hamlet does not a war make. Do you truly have so little faith in the skill of my Knights?" The voice that came was that of an older human woman of notable folklore status dressed in deep blues tailored into a highly comfortable yet staunchly practical knight-captain's uniform. She was tired of the early hour of the meeting yet none the less sharp minded, and sharp tongued.

The man grimaced internally at the degrading term she had addressed him with. "Not at all, Duchess Favellie. I merely believe there's more to this than a rogue pack of vermin. Our informants tell tales of a black rat with glowing eyes. Not strange by skaven standards surely but i believe it will take more than one platoon to deal with this, urgh" He rolled his eyes at the seemingly self given term, " _warlord_.". Lord Billieumont returned to the Duchess, he himself was dressed in a well fitted suit of uniform noble design that displayed the youthful fit frame of the son of a lord general, here in the place of his father who was fighting others battles in a far off province. The duchess was always a woman of incredible confidence, well earned as it were. Her knights held impressive renown in driving back not just the skaven but greenskin invaders as well, even so he held doubt at the cavalier nature she regarded the situation. 

"Let's not be too hasty then, Master Julius." Came the cool voice of the grail damsel Maria. Her voice washed over the room in it's simple peal, to Julius it was as calming as it was unsettling. She had spoken from the side of the grail knight she accompanied, a silent man named Yvenneau. "These beasts are terrible, yes. But the ladies power is not so weak as to falter under one raid. Warlord or no, he shall fall as the others.". A pointed look of her alien pale eyes sent a shiver through Julius who cast his own eyes down in respect. The grail damsels were of clear renown, greatly revered yet largely... unsettling. They did have unwavering loyalty to the lady of the lake however, the grand deity any respectful Bretonnian worshiped, and so any feelings were simply swept aside. Let alone the very fact that to insult one is to risk their otherworldly ire.

Now feeling fully humiliated and not unaware at the use of his first name rather than his title, Julius simply nodded his head respectfully once and receded from the table slightly, he wouldn't win this particular battle and if he had to face the skaven threat which the others seemed to disregard head on himself then he'd very well mount his thoroughbred and do so.

"Now lets not be too brash in our judgement of the matter at hand. Young in years as he may be, Lord Billieumont raises concerns worthy of note, ones I agree with in fact." A 5th voice cut into the group, this one of a man of elder years by name of Tirilain. His eyes were an opaque screen yet still followed the others as the spoke. He bore the garb of an exorcist, a powerful white wizard within Bretonnia's ranks. "We know truly very little of the " _Warlord Gnakao_ " nor his current whereabouts. In fact the lord and I will see to it to travel the province to shore our defenses. I'm certain not one of us here wants a repeat of Ubersreik." He finished, the air hung solemnly around the mention of the lost city but it was swiftly cut short by the duchess.

"Very well then," She began, using all her willpower not to roll her eyes at what she believed was needless caution."I will manage my troops from Fort Granbere, the two of you will chase your ghosts, as for Damsel Maria, Knight Yvenneau. What have the pair of you planned?"

"We shall travel north, the Lady calls my aid to the armies of Lady Trevan as she battle against the beastmen. We shall return likely in a few months, Lady willing." Maria ended with a downward tilt of her head, as if there were a secret only she knew, some hidden meaning but alas not one she would relent. Knight Yvenneau saluted to the rest as he followed the damsel Maria from the room. Always one to march on her own beat, not unlike Grail Damsels typically act, she left the remaining three to manage themselves.The White wizard clapped the young Lord Billieumont on the shoulder, "I'll be in my study then, i'm certain you recall the location, yes? Terrific. Come find me when you're ready to discuss our travel arrangements." And with a nod Julius was left in the room with the austere Duchess Favellie who lanced him through with an appraising gleam. 

A heartbeat passes between them before the Duchess breaks the silence, "I'll see to my soldiers then. Your father may have left you in his stead on this council but don't think you're at his level, young lord. Follow after Tirilain and try to stay out of the way of those who have training fighting the skaven." She finished with a firm unshakeable but not hostile stare as she motioned to her lieutenant and began to deliver lightning fast orders in a crisp clipped voice. 

Julius had little left to do in the war chamber so he too left, he scolded himself for his silence. Oh how he _wished_ he could go toe to toe with the duchess btu causing a scene would be something his father would never allow, it wasn't something he could risk. The young man however was not cowed. His gut feeling was unshakable and he'd see to proving it while he rode with the wizard. He fixed his hair and picked up his pace, if he was to journey then he'd have to prepare, and to be fully honest he had little idea what he'd need in person against the vicious rats.


End file.
